It's Not Okay
by Blenderx
Summary: John crossed a line.
1. Chapter 1

Spoilers for 3x02 The Lying Detective. Not mine, etc. etc.

 _*voice cracking* "I don't want to die"_

This case was going to be one of those that haunted Lestrade. It had been a long and hectic couple of weeks. He'd hardly had a moment to stop and breathe. Interviewing Culverton Smith and documenting his confession, gathering evidence, dealing with the media, his higher ups and the politicians, sorting through dozens of files on the victims. So many victims...

 _"I like to make people into things."_

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his neck. The whole nation was reeling from the shock and would be for a long time, Lestrade contemplated. This wouldn't be over for a long time.

And then a small file had landed on his desk. Of course they'd dropped the attempted stabbing case against Sherlock. It was easily swept under given what had come to light, what Sherlock had brought to light ( _and in what a way, that recording was one of those things which would haunt him_...). In all the insanity of the past week, it was nearly forgotten, even.

 _"I really hit him, Greg.. hit him hard"_

It was spoken as an after-thought, almost, casual, if a bit remorseful, and it had been easy to dismiss at the time. Who didn't want to hit the bastard sometimes? John was grieving and had just stopped their ( _gone completely off his rocker on drugs_ ) friend murdering an ( _God, how could no one see?_ ) innocent man. It had been so easy to dismiss, bloody knuckles and all. Yeah, Sherlock had ended up in a hospital bed, but that was his own doing, wasn't it?

 _"I want you to kill me"_

He stared down at the hospital report in front of him, detailing the injuries Sherlock had sustained (contusions to the face, orbital rim fracture, fractured ribs, blunt force trauma to the abdomen...) and it didn't feel so easy to dismiss anymore. He read the interviews (he'd done John's at the station, as his friend and primary witness, colleagues had done the rest of the witnesses at the scene. This was his first time reading it given what else had landed in his lap...) and they painted an entirely different picture to the one he'd imagined.

They'd had to drag John off him, still kicking. And Sherlock... Sherlock for his part had made no effort whatsoever to defend himself and had made some disturbing comments before losing consciousness.

 _"Let him do what he wants... He's entitled... I killed his wife."_

 _"It's okay."_ It's okay...

God, he'd been there! He understood the desire to blame Sherlock, the arrogant clot, but it wasn't his fault, he wasn't the one that pulled the trigger, and Mary had made a choice. None of this was okay.

 _"Take a big breathe if you want."_

Amazing he really hadn't thought things could get any worse. But here he was, contemplating what he must to do to one of his best friends, a single new father grieving his murdered wife, on behalf of one of their mutual friends ( _and he wasn't ashamed of it, because for everything else Sherlock had ever done, he's a good man._ A good man. _He felt giddy and nauseous simultaneously at the thought. He'd laid himself down for the slaughter, and not for the first time, to take down an evil man and to save a man who'd just nearly beaten him to death. And he knew he wouldn't hesitate to do it again. How many lives could one man really have? The game had consequences and it terrified the hardened police inspector.)_

 _"You made... a vow"_

"and off... you... pop" *alarms sounding*

This wasn't the first case of domestic violence he'd had in his career ( _Cripes, is that really what this was? They're best friends!)._ He knew the line had been crossed and that it would probably happen again. He'd told victims ( _geeze, Sherlock..._ ) how many times that there was nothing they could have done to deserve it? But it'd been so easy to dismiss given the energetic and insufferable force that was Sherlock Holmes and he wondered, this time on his behalf, what warning signs he'd missed.

 _"Its amazing..." *recorded sounds of struggle* "what people are willing to ignore..."_

Lestrade shuddered. He wanted nothing more than to tuck into a stiff drink right now. These things were always messy, but the law was clear, and he wasn't going to be doing any sweeping again, that would help no one. Lestrade picked up his phone, "Hi John, its Greg. Listen, can you come down to the station? Yeah, its necessary. Make sure someone can keep Rosey, this might take a while. Right, see you soon."

He exhaled into his lap and fervently wished for that drink.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

"Greg, hi. Sorry I'm late, had to drop off Rosie at Mike's."

Lestrade stands as he approaches and gathers a couple of files, avoiding his eyes, "Yeah, listen, let's find a room, okay?"

John notices. "Alright." And as they enter the same interrogation they'd used just a couple of weeks ago, he asks, "Is this about the case?"

Lestrade sits with a weary sigh. "Have a seat, John. We need to have a chat." The ex soldier sits obediently and Lestrade passes him a manila folder.

"What's this?" even as he begins to browse it, and his expression falls. Another moment, and he closes the file without having looked through all of it. He swallows. "This... he'd just attacked a man with a scalpel, Greg. He was high off his tits." Their eyes meet for a weighty moment, then he clears his throat, looking away.

"Its a little more serious than that." Greg says gruffly.

"I know." Pause. "I know. I lost my temper." He swallows. "I hit him... And then I hit him again... And again." John flexes his hand, as if he can still feel it. He looks back at Greg defiantly. "I lost my wife."

"That's not an excuse."

John suddenly can't sit anymore and gets up folding his arms and turning away to contemplate the far wall.

"Look, I've known Sherlock longer than you have. Not saying I know him any better, but I know him, okay?" Lestrade presses and John nods his acknowledgement to the wall.

"He's not interested in pressing charges." Lestrade tells his back.

John whirls around, mouth agape. "Are we really having this conversation? I _know_ I went too far, alright? I feel like shit about it, if you must know. But you know he-"

"-I know that in Sherlock Holmes' eyes, you can do no wrong. If you hit him, it's what he deserves."

John scoffs. " _I cheated on her." and for once, Sherlock Holmes is rendered speechless._

"And this isn't the first time, John. I'm saying this as both a friend, and as a police officer. You've got a problem."

John takes a kind of military stance in front of him, lips tight.

"He's not interested in pressing charges... But I am."

Blink. "What?"

Greg raises his voice impatiently. "You beat your best friend into a bloody heap-"

"It wasn't quite like that-"

"They had to drag you off of him, _doctor_!"

Silence. John's shoulders heave.

Lestrade looks down at the table, and shakes his head. _He looks so tired._ John thinks, _As tired as I feel._

"You're my friend, and I'm sorry for your loss, truly I am, but Sherlock didn't kill Mary. And you're not the only one hurting over it. You're not the only one, John." He stares at him pointedly.

He hands him another folder. "You crossed the line and I can't overlook it. Not this time. Not again. No excuses. Because the next time, there might not be anyone to drag you off before you kill him. And I can't count on Sherlock not to just let you do what you think you need to do." 

"That's not going to happen."

"Can you really guarantee that?" Lestrade shoots back mercilessly.

John clears his throat, and in a quiet voice, indicates the folder in his hand, "And what's this?"

"My recommendations to the court. Anger management classes and counseling-"

"I'm already seeing a therapist-"

"There are specialized counselors for domestic violence" Their eyes meet again, and for a moment, John flares, then he seems to deflate and simply nods.

Greg carries on, "and there will be a record of this incident, with a protection order in place." he puts his hand up as John begins to protest, "I won't keep you two apart, because ultimately I _do_ believe you two can be good for each other, but let me be clear:" He gives him a hard look, "things need to change, and if you lay another finger on him in violence, you will serve time, no question. This" He waves the hospital file in the air between them. "can never happen again, John Watson. I won't protect you and you'll lose everything."

He lets it sink in a moment. "I will not, at this time, recommend the more severe charges of Grievous Bodily Harm, but that could change if you choose not to cooperate."

John sinks into the empty seat. He blinks away emotion. "For what its worth... we've made up. I told him that it wasn't his fault. And I've been there every evening to do my shift."

Lestrade nods. "I'm glad. I meant what I said: that you two are good for each other, in your own ways... But my opinion, off the record: its not enough. He's done you wrong too, and I've seen him put himself through the ringer apologizing to you. Now its your turn. You apologize properly, and then you do it again and you acknowledge to him just how damned wrong you were, because he won't hear it from anybody else and he needs to hear it."

"You really think it will matter to him?" With a tone of disbelief.

" _You_ matter to him." __

_Let him do what he wants. He's entitled._

John's expression turns inward and he nods.

There's a knock on the door, and Lestrade rises. "Alright, I've got to get back to the case."

John nods, looking weary.

"You take care of yourself, John. For Rosey."

Greg hesitates a moment, then turns and leaves the room and John, to his thoughts.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Okay, so, not as satisfying as it could be, but hopefully realistic for this universe and these characters. Thank you for the kind reviews, I don't think I'd have gotten this chapter out without the encouragement!


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